We all fall down
by the-beginning-of-the-end
Summary: Things aren't like they used to be, and Bones has finally had enough of looking after Jim.


**no previous experience is required**

**your date**

**wants you to love him**

**he has a short attention span**

**and this isn't what you expected, darlin'**

**nothing will ever be the same again**

--

The beer was warm as it fell down my throat. The glass felt like it was about to shatter so I put it back on the table. My fingers are shaking but I ignore them. I shouldn't have expected anything more than this. After all the phone calls I'd had to make for him, to tell the fling of the week that he wasn't interest anymore, I should've known this was coming. I should've had it figured that I'd be no more than another notch in the belt of the infamous James T Kirk.

He was at the bar getting more drinks because lord knows we haven't had enough yet. Two more and he'd be lucky if he could still walk. He smiled at the barman. Bastard. What the hell is he doing? Does he think I won't know what that smile means, the one where he gets a dimple in his left cheek? I know all his looks, all his facial expressions. I know flirting when I see it.

Why am I even here? I should've just said yes to that nurse, the blonde one, whatshername, and gone out and had a Jim free night. Maybe the Vulcan's have it right. Stupid human emotions and my inherent need to look after Jim. To be in love with Jim. Whatever. Forget it.

"Bones, beer,' he said as he put a full glass in front of me. He can take the beer and shove it for all I care. But I do care. I care so much. I should stop drinking, it's making me emotional. I knocked back the drink and glared at Jim when he smirked at me. I can drink as much as he can. Stupid kid. He gulped his own and sat back down. I looked back to the bar and signalled the barman. Better drunk enough to not remember, than sober enough to over analyse everything.

"We should get Scotty and Pavel to come out," he says and I turned my attention back to him. "We could have a mean drinking competition."

I looked him over, studying his face for the millionth time. I knew every line on his face. I could see the fraying ends in his eyes and knew where his thoughts were. Where they always are these days. Always with the same person. He was grasping at straws, asking me out, and he knew I knew it. If he wanted to feel he could damn well go and play in traffic.

Keep it together, Leonard.

"Sure," I mumble, turning my eyes to my glass. It catches the smoky light and plays patterns on the table top. I trace them with my finger. He pulls out a phone and I stand abruptly, knocking the table and making my head spin. He doesn't get it. He's so wrapped up in the past that he's forgotten what this is all about.

"Bones?"

I shake my head. "I gotta go. Helping at the clinic tomorrow." It's a lie and the way he draws back tells me he knows. Good. I turn and start to walk away, leaving my chair in the path of the oncoming barman. Jim can have my drink. I don't care. I have to get to the hotel and sleep. Maybe knock back a few shots of something hard enough to put me out for a few hours. Maybe send something streaming through my veins that makes me forget all this ever happened.

I'm out the door and trying to find the keys to the rental car I was using when he catches up. He puts his hand on my shoulder, warm and soft, and spins me around. He has tears on his cheeks and I want to feel bad for him but I just can't. His hands are shaking, I can feel it through my jacket, and his whole body follows suit.

"Don't go," he says and I'm almost compelled to wrap him up in my arms and let him cry. Just like back in the day when his birthday came around and all the academy made him think of was his father. Just like when I cared for nothing but him. But I can't. I can't do this anymore. "I can't lose you too."

The line sends a jolt through my body and I shrug off his hand. I knew this was coming. I knew it. Why did I have to convince myself that it might be different? I should be having sex with a hot nurse right now. I shouldn't be listening to the pieces of Jim's heart rattle around inside of his chest. I'm a doctor, but I can't fix that. Maybe one day the technology will become available, but right now, I can't bring people back from the dead.

I grab his shoulders and press my lips against his. He makes a startled noise and I step back, watching as his lip starts to quiver. The person hiding in those blue eyes isn't the Jim I know. I don't know where the Jim I know has gone. But he's not here. And I can't do this anymore.

"Sorry Captain,"

"Bones, please."

I close my eyes and shake my head. I force images of my Jim to my mind and I almost forget that I'm not standing in front of him. "I can settle for being a second choice, Jim, but I can't be a replacement."

He knows exactly what I'm talking about and it wrenches a sob from his throat. Funnily enough, it's not me he's crying about.

"What am I meant to do Bones? They're going to take it all away from me."

I want to play the compassionate friend but I'm so tired. "I don't know. You're just going to have to deal with it."

I turn back to the car and finally pull the key from my pocket. I unlock the door and get inside. He just stands there, his hands by his sides, looking like a complete wreck. One thing I learnt in med school is that you can't save every patient. I can't save him. I can't.

--

Urgent Memo

To: Crew members of the USS Enterprise

Re: Rumours surrounding the recent death of our late captain

.

Crew,

I regret to tell you that I can neither confirm, nor deny, that Capt. Kirk's dismissal from Star Fleet has had any influence on his decision to take his own life. It is requested that any such talk is prohibited until further investigations have taken place.

We understand that the also recent loss of the first Commander has taken its toll on the crew, and in conjunction with that of the Captain's, the entire crew have been granted extended shore leave. Please spend your time on Terra appropriately and refrain from participating in any further gossip.

.

Regards,

Dr McCoy, CMO USS Enterprise


End file.
